Urban Hills
by sun-emperor
Summary: When a parody of Mackenzie Falls is made, Chad and cast declare war on So Random! once more.
1. Chapter 1

disclaimer: Not mine! I'm just a lonely puppeteer with no toys of my own. All rights and characters belong to Disney.

For Rhai, because this is just way too awesome to not share.

_**Bold italics are voiceover narrators.**_

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chapter one: Urban Hills

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Three below. Icicles hovered above, perilously near to falling. Windows misted as thick as a lake in Minnesota. The biting wind gave no relief to the already suffering. A disheveled teenager shivered as he huddled closer to his companion.

"Greg," the dark skinned boy started, teeth chattering. "This is the wo-worse it's ever been."

The plump blonde replaced his hood. "Nick. Winter's here. Our crops have failed, harvest never came. The school is about to close, we have nowhere to go. We're slowly starving to death. What can we do?"

His passionate speech aroused Nick's interest, the first glimmer in his eyes that resembled the boy he once had been. Nick withdrew his stiff gloved fingers from the large brown overcoat that had seen better days. Ransacking his pouch from the messenger bag, he brought out closley wrapped foil.

Forcing the parcel into Greg's hands, Nick shuffled his feet. "I saved you some. Before the kitchens closed."

Crinkling.

"Biscuits!" Greg exclaimed, excited by this new find. "Cheese. And sausage!" He looked up at Nick with wonder. "It's like a mini-burger."

Nick's smile did little to lift the cold of winter. "It's still not enough. I wonder, sometimes, what will get us first? Winter or starvation?

_**One of them will starve...**_

Tasha's bottom lip quivered in unspoken prayer. Her cheeks were a ghostly pale in the gray sunlight. Passing under an archway, she paused. Blonde hair escaped her poorly drawn bun at the nape of her neck.

Tasha stepped forward, enchanted by the vibrant glow of dancing flames. A light in the darkness. Two other figures nearly engulfed the small fire. Joining them, Tasha found instant relief. It might have been her imagination, but warmth licked at the top of her cobalt tipped fingers. Spreading through her body, a slow furnace began to burn. She knew enough not to rub her frostbitten fingers but without warm water, there was little she could do.

Tasha nearly cast herself into the fire for such pleasant heat.

"No fire in the halls!" An irate voice shrieked. The three grimaced, turning to the vice principal. The short but young woman glared menacingly. "There are rules to be obeyed!"

Tasha swallowed thickly. "Ms. Laura, please. It's so cold." She pleaded desperately.

Ms. Laura grimly stated, "There's nothing I can do. If the school board ...this might be the end." Her tone turned almost wistful, wishing on a distant star.

_**Everything must come to an end...**_

Sandra stumbled int he thick wilderness. Her white earmuffs were almost a halo around her head. Her scarlet coat was beautiful, especially with the golden buttons. Warm white gloves protected her once lotioned hands.

Bringing out a cellphone again, extremely surprised it hadn't frozen. She learned her hopes were dashed. No signal.

Tripping on a rock, Sandra's boot sank three inches in the pure white snow.

Thump.

In the distance, she caught a glimpse of a tree, branch vibrating with the lightened load. A lump of snow lay in a pile at its proverbial feet. A flash of brown.

"Hello?"

Sandra thew out her hand to balance herself on a nearby tree. "Is somebody there?"

Shh-nup.

Sandra propelled herself through the overhanging branches, reaching bushes, uneven ground, and colorless area. Twigs grasped at her hair, poles whipped her clothing, dry woodland blocking her path. Pushing it aside carelessly, they snapped back at her.

Her breath now coming in pants, Sandra struggled to make it through. Snow crunched beneath her boots. "Hello? I'm- I'm lost. Please." Sandra offered, thinking the person shy. Her side was spasming. The weight of the thick clothing (some damp) was difficult to run with. Her cheeks were now ablush with color, blood close to the surface, rushing through her veins.

Brown hair caressed her neck and jaw.

_**Alone in the wilderness. Or is she? Next time on Urban Hills...**_

The screen darkened.

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Mackenzie Falls cast stared dumbly at the mobile television and the home video.

Portlyn blinked incredulously. "And you recorded this?"

Trevor, Mackenzie's best friend, nodded enthusiastically. "My little sister watches it." He ignored the gasp around the room. "She mentioned something, so I had to watch. Once I realized what they had done, I knew you had to be aware."

It must have taken great courage to deliver the news to the others, to suddenly find themselves the center of ridicule. Yet his loyalty was to the studio, first and foremost.

Chad blanched at the idea, but could not idly by as his beloved television drama became the source of laughter. "They've gone too far this time. Nobody mocks Mackenzie Falls."

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a/n: By the way, I've decided to keep mackenzie falls names for the characters that's not officially part of Sonny with a Chance. I do know the names of the actors and actresses thanks to the minisodes and information guide but won't use them. I'm operating under the assumption that Chad can't be too bothered to learn their real names, since it's a larger cast than So Random, even if they are Mackenzie Falls cast. Portlyn is just Portlyn.

In case nobody got it: Nick=Nico, Tasha=Tawni, Grant=Grady, Laura=Zora, and Sandra=Sonny. I tried to keep their names as similar as possible for easy recognition.


	2. blame

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Chapter two: Blame

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Sonny whistled merrily, a spring in her step as she neatly organized each item on the round table after plucking it from her Coraline lunchbox. Apple, strawberry yogurt and peanut butter with apricot jam sandwich (wrapped comfortably with plastic).

Sitting straight with her cherry kool-aid on her right and napkins nowhere in sight...wait. Sonny paused, her good mood broken. She could just leave the food on the table but that was inviting trouble if Nico or Grady happened to wander in. Replacing the yogurt back in the fridge and the apple with the sandwich (rewrapped in plastic) into the adorable lunchbox.

Nobody else liked cherry kool-aid, so she needn't worry. Zora claimed she preferred to mix them together- grape, cherry and lime. The thought held little to no appeal for Sonny.

The hallway was, as usual, empty except for the occasional assistant director or sound producer. People she rarely interacted with, to be short. The cafeteria was its usual. Snagging a few napkins, Sonny left quickly, noticing the So Random cast had not yet appeared. That might have had something to do with their costume change from their recent sketch practice. All but Sonny had to be in costume, which turned out to be very convenient for her and very inconvenient for the others.

Returning to the prop house, Sonny once again began to organize her lunch. The sandwich was thick, creamy and a mouthful to swallow. The kool-aid was luke-warm to her tongue but Sonny hardly cared. Cool, warm- a drink is a drink.

"Hmmm."

The girl hesitated, spoon still in mouth as she slowly pivoted in her seat to regard the person interrupting her. Chad cocked his head, eyes photographing the scene as a brief smile danced away. Sonny swallowed, the smooth yogurt abruptly becoming thick and difficult. She didn't like that look much, the one suggesting death and destruction.

The spoon exited her mouth soundlessly as she grinned uncertainly. "Hey Chad. What's up?"

Chad surveyed the table before him, before he gracefully took the chair closest to her. Even with the distance, it still felt overwhelming. Was it getting warmer in here? Nervous, why should she be nervous?

The teen drama superstar shrugged nonchalantly as if nothing could ever bother him. "Nothing much. Just wondering why you're having lunch in the prop room."

"Prop house." Sonny automatically corrected. "It's a prop house. As for that, I just find it's quieter here. I don't have to be teased by Meatball Monday or Taco Tuesday. You know, while you're served real food, we get slop." She pointedly bit into her sandwich to fill her mouth from spouting out other complaints. Shaking her head, Sonny wiped her mouth. "So I decided to bring my own food. After all, it's much healthier and we have a fridge. So why not?"

True enough, there was a fridge not far away. Not as large as Mackenzie Falls, barely even a fraction of the size. Must meet some of their needs, he supposed.

"And the lunchbox?" Chad inquired.

Sonny's shoulders stiffened. "I like lunchboxes. They're very cute. And mobile." She added swiftly, deciding her reason wasn't enough for the use.

Chad propped his legs upon one of the other chairs, still maintaining a proper posture. She was happy enough he hadn't placed them on the table.

"And the Urban Hills sketch?" Chad questioned deftly.

Sonny laughed, not realizing her danger. "Wasn't it so funny? The- _ohh_." The shark-look appeared on Chad's face again, forcing her into silence. Her laughter died in the empty room. Chad's eyes shined with spoiled amusement and threats. He was incredibly still except for watching her. If it had been anyone else or a different situation, she might have been flattered. The lyrics of 'I only have eyes for you' came to mind when describing the intensity.

"Yeah, _ohh._" He echoed her epiphany. "We really should have a little chat about that. You're from Chuckle City, I'm from Mackenzie Falls. We're from separate worlds. Whatever gave you the idea to mix the two?"

Sonny scoffed, too shocked and speechless to dredge up a proper response. The accusation was just ridiculous. "One, that's hardly a chat; two, I didn't do anything. Don't try to blame me for this."

Chad's stare had enough heat/ice action to either melt a glacier or build it up again. It was unnerving, to say the least.

"I didn't! Marshall sent us the script." Sonny protested in the right of self-preservation.

Chad nodded slowly, reluctant to believe her. If it was Marshall, the director, it meant the script could've come from writers. He could hardly argue with their writers or complain. To file a complaint about another studio's writers hardly made sense. He wasn't quite so sure Mr. Condor would tolerate it. Besides, Mr. Condor seemed to personally prefer Sonny.

"Sonny!"

Marshall strode in, cheerful. With a sour acknowledgement, Sonny noticed he had the same spring in his step that she had not fifteen minutes earlier. His eyes widened in disbelief at Chad calmly sitting at a So Random table. Well, not so much. Mackenzie Falls actors were more venturing now that Sonny joined the cast of So Random. He chose to believe her delightful disposition was the cause. After all, she had helped stop the feud between the two shows.

Sonny was the bridge of friendship, bonding them now.

"Isn't she so wonderful?" He addressed Chad. "I love the new sketch. Simply brilliant!"

Sonny's smile slipped. "Actually, Zora and I wrote that together." She was determined to credit Zora. The little girl was a firecracker but full of creativity. How anyone thought she could imagine a catapult as being the basis of their new sketch was just plain odd.

"So modest too!" Marshall chuckled to himself. "When Nico went flying- and the pool of pudding. Perfect. Urban Hills was fantastic. I've never seen such great dramatic acting from comedians before. Bound to bring up ratings. Parodies are big these days." He sighed thoughtfully, eyes zoning on some hidden object. "We have Sonny to thank for all of that, of course."

Patting her shoulder affectionately, Marshall strolled off, completely unaware of the frosty atmosphere. Sonny was frozen in her chair, wondering what had happened, eyes wide and fearful. Chad smirking in triumph, suspicions confirmed. Silence reigned as she sat, waiting for Chad to explode.

She didn't see him rising from his chair. Never heard his confident footsteps treading across the carpet.

"Hey Sonny." Sonny glanced up, still dazed from the confusing events. Chad had paused, thoughtfully staring at her. "I'll be seeing you." Crunch.

With horror, Sonny's eyes shot back to the table. "That's my apple!"

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	3. go on

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a/n: has anybody besides me ever wondered: tawni + nico = taco

maybe i'm just incredibly hungry right now...

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Chapter Three: The Show Must Go On

Portlyn primped her hair, readying for her next scene. A cosmetic assistant from the left approached quickly, ignoring the countdown their director had started. She walked up to Chloe, evening out the blush on the left. Nodding with satisfaction at the perfection, she sprinted out of sight.

The camera followed Chloe as she timidly walked across the lively green grass. Approaching the studying girl, she cleared her throat before launching herself into the stone seat.

Portlyn lifted her head, speculating on the few reasons this girl would interrupt her. Glossing her bottom lip with a quick swipe of her pink tongue, Portlyn visibly tensed. She was not known to be overly affectionate to the new girl that had enraptured Mackenzie. Her newest tactic was to disregard the girl entirely. Now if only Chloe would go away, it might be more effective.

"I know you don't like me much," she began. "I can't really blame you. Sometimes I don't like myself either." Whispered but still heard by her and the cameras. Chloe tilted her head down to her tangled hands, sweaty and warm from all the clenching. Portlyn had just started to roll her eyes before halting, becoming alert. She refrained from speaking, merely finished the notes about wind fronts.

Chloe sighed dramatically.

"I don't know what to do anymore. I've tried everything I could. In the end, I suppose, it's just like it was in the beginning. You even tried to warn me." The girl laughed at herself, hardly believing her past innocence. "Mackenzie is yours. I give up. The pain...how can you stand such pain?"

If it were not for her clever disregard Chloe plan, Portlyn would have answered. It went along the lines of her not deserving Mackenzie, not being enough. Wisely, she held her tongue. And flipped the page. Indifference, her face read to the audience. Or at the very least, struggling to maintain indifference. With a small dose of curiosity.

The stone bench was increasingly becoming more uncomfortable, mostly due to the unexpected guest. Was she ever going to leave?

Chloe's unfocused eyes were unblinking as she drifted away. Her expression was hurt and lost, practically begging to be saved from this traumatizing life. Her lips were turned down in a slight pout. She truly appeared to have her heart broken and suffered greatly for it.

"I merely wanted to make things right this time. Between us, I mean. We never gave each other a chance, which I regret. We could have been friends, sisters. We're nothing more than strangers."

Portlyn's eyes widened. This time? Regrets? Was the girl moving? Dying? Would Chloe now confess her sins? Do something incredibly rash as to jeopardize her place at the school? With these frightening questions in mind, Portlyn unfroze, turning her head with urgency as to create a whiplash in her neck.

The stone seat was now vacant. In the distance, a meek Chloe now walked, away. Away from Portlyn, from the school. She hardly heard the bell, the smooth flump of feet conquering grass, the throat clearing. Never noticed the person sitting on her right, out of sight as Portlyn still gazed at the diminishing figure of Chloe in the distance.

"Terrible, isn't it?"

The voice didn't nearly as startle her as suddenly as the textbook randomly snapping shut. Portlyn regarded the loose necktie and folded cuffs. The dark windswept hair. Devon's impish smile as he allowed her to survey him. "Seems the girl is finally waking from sleep to find she dearly misses the dream."

Not expecting such eloquence, Portlyn blinked heavily. "Pardon?"

Devon's white teeth glittered in return. "I suppose we should take it as an omen of bad fortune if Chloe's going in the direction of the falls." His eyes wandered toward the sky, pondering the situation with rarely observed severity.

Portlyn shot up. "The falls? I thought- but never considered she'd really- suicide?! Devon, we have to hurry!" Ignoring the breach of conduct, her arm grasped his with steeled determination.

"Cut!"

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Releasing his arm, the actress rewarded herself with silent applause as she tipped her head to allow cool water to trickle down her throat. In the corner she could see the director consulting with his crew, replaying the scene. She could see them dissecting every aspect, every camera view. Despite the pending possibility of Chloe's suicide, the scene was entirely about herself and Devon. The script hinted at a future friendship with Chloe once they saved her life.

Still full from the duck at lunch, Portlyn popped wintermint gum into her mouth. The feeling was refreshing and clean, even if stinging for the first few seconds.

"He's back!"

Trevor motioned to the others as Chad entered, hands casually placed into the uniform pants. Devon, Trevor and Chloe rushed to the tween drama star, crowding and efficiently causing a roadblock. With Portlyn as last, they had a small gathering off to the side.

"Well?" Portlyn demanded upon seeing no one was willing to ask the question.

Chad employed a tactic he learned in theatre by calming peering at every face before speaking, thus prolonging the dramatic pause. "They did it," he announced.

Chloe gasped as Trevor and Devon turned to conspire together. Chad was greatly pleased that their reactions were not exuberant enough to garner the attention of the help.

"From the information I was given, it was to raise ratings. Chuckle City, despite being second best to Mackenzie Falls, is disappointed with the viewing numbers. Sonny denied this, of course. But the producer confessed everything." Chad couldn't help but admire his achievement. He'd been friendly, seeking information before ruthless. The change had startled Sonny speechless.

And the last casting director said he couldn't act the part of a spy. Ha!

"Sonny?" Trevor queried, aware of their awkward friendship despite being rivals. "What does Sonny have to do with this?" Not that he liked the girl. She was alright, if a little odd. She just laughed too much, especially when nervous or in strange situations. The girl couldn't bluff her way through goldfish.

Trevor felt she was more vibrant when angry, it happened to be when she was most confident with herself and more caustic with others. It was probably why Chad insisted on antagonizing the girl so much.

Chloe huddled a bit closer, eager to hear the news. Portlyn waited with baited breath. Chad would not refuse them. Not this. Loyalty to the studio meant everything. They deserved to know who had made a mockery of their fine acting talents.

Chad warily glanced at the producers, wardrobe department, lighting crew. Anybody within earshot distance that might eavesdrop. "It was Sonny's idea. She wrote the script."

"That's why you missed lunch!" Devon spouted in realization. "You confront her, like a spurned lover. And there was a great duel-" he paused, spinning in a wide circle to stop on the other side of Chloe. "You were victorious."

Devon was most like his character of all the actors. At this point all need be understood is that he'd been watching Princess Bride far too often.

"Something like that." Chad answered, eyeing the oddball.

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Sorry it took so long. Especially for such a short update. The next will be longer, I swear.

I apologize in advance but I couldn't remember the role Marshall plays, I just labeled him as their producer. If anybody remembers and I happen to be wrong, feel free to correct me.


	4. poor tawni

Chapter Four: Tawni

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Tawni rushed in before the roaring wind could swing the heavy door shut on her. The relentless rain was now a falling slant and impossible to escape. The sky is a twisted gray and near to rumbling. The snapping chill of early winter was not something she liked to be reminded of and her spring green winter coat barely kept her warm. She couldn't stop from trembling even in the heated hallway.

This day was turning out to be horrible.

Awkwardly stomping to the dressing room, Tawni ignored the shock on the faces of Nico and Grady. Nico's mouth opened and closed, unable to find any words to comment on her current situation. She did growl convincingly enough to make them fly to the wall in a clamber to stay out of her path.

"That was more frightening than my mom sunbathing," Grady announced sagely once Tawni was out of ear sight.

Nico, still flattened to the wall, shook his head in disgust. "Dude that was way too much information."

Tawni had no patience for knocking (though really, why should she? It was her dress room after all. Even if Sonny shared it) and it became clear when she threw the door open. Standing at the threshold as a scorned lover staring into every corner of hell. The sound of the door popping back startled Sonny lying down on the sofa

She dipped her head back, staring at Tawni upside-down. She shot up, righting herself. She stared at the flat, damp hair and raccoon eyes.

"What happened to you?"

"You may be bright and sunny but the rest of us live in a world that is not." Tawni scowled, throwing her large purse onto the floor with finality. Sensing she had an audience that genuinely cared to listen, Tawni wasted no time in relieving herself. "Everything is going wrong! I slept in the wrong position, getting only four hours of my beloved beauty sleep. My hair refuses to cooperate today and the rain doesn't help. I dropped my makeup bag out of a window-" she pointed an accusing finger at Sonny. "Don't even ask. I didn't want to be late so I just drove here. We have makeup here anyway."

Tawni breathed deep, trying to ignore the persistent urge to sob uncontrollably. "I was walking through the parking lot when I stepped in a puddle." Here she gestured to the large stain on her stonewashed jeans. It was about four inches above her ankle, clearly noticeable. "And to make things worse, I think I left my cell phone at home."

Tawni ripped off her coat, muttering angrily. Sonny wisely left her to her own devices, scurrying about.

The blonde collapsed at her station, resting from the emotional exhaustion. Sonny grabbed a hair dryer, a very necessary piece of equipment for occasions such as this. "Well, I can't help you with the cell phone. But we have twenty minutes before we start so why don't we get you ready?"

"Really?"

Sonny smiled at the smallest bit of hope just tangible in Tawni's voice. "Of course. I am Sonny Monroe and I am here to personally brighten your day." The conviction caused Tawni to lift her head, sniffling.

"You want me to use a hair dryer? Do you know what that heat does to hair?" Tawni questioned with her voice still small. In her expression was the ever present belief and faith of being the most fashionable person on earth, even when having a bad day. She doubtfully gazed at the contraption.

"How is it any different than a curling iron?" Sonny questioned rhetorically. "It's better than nothing. Besides, that wet hair can't be good. You might get a cold."

Tawni sniffled more to test her senses. "What are you standing there for? Plug it in already!" She commanded before snatching it herself and thrusting the three pronged end into the outlet. Setting it on high, she turned her full attention onto pampering herself.

Sonny swung her hands together, chucking nervously.

"Sonny, why am I staring at a wall? Usually I stare into the mirror where I can see another me. Why don't I have another me?!" Her wailing rose to new heights as she reached the boundary line of hysterical. She gestured to the blank space, the outline where an object once hung. It was merely an empty canvass now.

The brunette attempted to comfort the girl by patting her shoulders.

"Maintenance came in before you arrived. All the mirrors are getting polished. Even the bathroom mirrors are gone," Sonny stated apologetically. "But you still have your pocket mirror, right? So things can't be that bad." She ended optimistically.

Tawni broke into a fresh wave of tears. "It fell out a window, remember? I don't even have my cell phone!"

Sonny twitched visibly, hand twisting her own phone from her pants pocket. "Well, I guess I can lend you mine. It's not much but-" She was quieted by a shout of "You're the best!" and a swift one-armed hug.

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1:53.

Tawni clapped her hands together softly, afraid to be heard. Since she had no phone, she was incredibly bored. After using the cell phone as a mirror, she had pleadingly convinced Sonny to let her borrow it for a little while longer. For the first hour, after discussing current scripts and future scripts, lines and actions, they had started rehearsing. Between rehearses, Tawni twittered, checked her facebook, read all the gossip, and even answered Sonny's personal calls.

Lucy was quite happy to relay the conflict between Kayla and Erin that had been the result of shared clothing and an irremovable stain caused by relish; this story was necessary to explain if she was then to expand on the growing feud between the two. Sonny's mom would be home an hour late.

Sonny remained calm the entire time despite being antagonized. She tolerated Tawni trying to break into her email account but drew the line when she started calling people. It was interesting to see how far she could go before Sonny ran out of patience. By that time, she reclaimed her cell phone and banned Tawni from it the rest of the day. Immersed in heckling the girl, she forgot and lost the only mirror in reach.

Tawni glanced up to see clearly defined, empty space where a mirror should be.

Throwing off the cap of her brown eyeliner, Tawni began to get to work. She added gray eye shadow in precise strokes and light silver for emphasis. A feather-light touch of soft peach for her cheeks; carefully sliding pink bubblegum gloss across her pouty lips. Reaching again, Tawni frowned at her options: green, red, blue, and black, gray, purple. No yellow.

"Zora!"

Tawni shouted urgently.

"What?!" The eleven year old demanded moodily. Clearly she had been drifting off into sleep before being rudely interrupted and did not appreciate it. The curtains opened to reveal a glowering Zora with her arms crossed. In light of the odd sight presented to her she blinked heavily, irises widening.

Tawni rolled her eyes. "Don't give me that look. I didn't have another me so I had to create her. I think she's beautiful myself. Why shouldn't she be? She is me, after all." Tawni confessed, admiring her poorly drawn caricature on the wall. Then she turned back, "I have a problem."

"You're crazy?" Zora offered in disbelief. "And you don't have any hair."

Tawni sighed. It was like being around a toddler, for all the good it did her. So far all Zora had done was point out the visually obvious. If she did manage to help, she might just kindly ignore the 'crazy' accusation. It was unjustified. "Do you have any yellow?"

"Yellow?"

It was like pulling teeth!

"Yes, yellow. Like a- like a highlighter!" Tawni started to become much happier. Surely Zora would have a highlighter. The feeling was now simmering inside, threatening to burst. She hardly noticed Zora dashing away or returning.

Tawni Two. Tawni the Second. The latter name was more pleasing, actually sounding refined. The former name could have come from a horror film for all she cared. It sounded like an experiment's designation. Tawni One, Tawni Two. No, Tawni the Second was truly the only name possible.

"Here. It's not a highlighter but it'll have to do," Zora stated, hardly caring. Honestly, she was dying to witness this firsthand.

Snatching it out of Zora's hand, Tawni inspected the tip. It wasn't darkened or tainted in any way, making it perfect. Thank goodness Zora had yellow or Tawni the Second would probably have to deal with a red dye job. Definitely not something she wanted. She drew a parting on the right side, with bouncy waves and ending in light curls on nonexistent shoulders. Taking a step back, she observed the artwork with a critical eye; she wasn't an artist but the picture would have to do if she was to have another me.

Clunk. Clunk.

Pausing with highlighter still in hand (albeit closed), Tawni locked gazes with Zora. Then her eyes darted past to the clock on the wall. 2:00! Clicking joyfully to the door, she threw it open with what she knew to be a dazzling smile. "Mailman!" She greeted to one of her most favorite people in the studio. He delivered her fan mail. Since she didn't know and didn't care to guess (Jake, Josh, Jason, Judd, Jude, Joe), she simply referred to him as mailman. It didn't seem to bother him, as he had never corrected her.

"Look!" Spreading her arms wide, Tawni presented the picture. Tentatively, Mailman stepped across the threshold as if unsure he was allowed into a girls' dressing room. His eyes bulged behind square glasses as he digested the eyesore.

Thinking her beauty caused his speechlessness, Tawni's tinkled in the air. "I've resorted to caveman drawings because they've confiscated all the mirrors. Apparently they're being cleaned or something. Do you know how long it'll take?" She switched from casual conversation to demanding in an instant.

Mailman scratched his head. "I didn't know the mirrors were being collected. I guess I should call maintenance. I was just over at Mackenzie Falls, they still have theirs." He shrugged, completely missing Tawni's patented glare as he returned to his cart. Mailman handed over a stash of about twelve letters bound in a rubber band. "These are Sonny's. This is for you, Zora." He carried in a package almost two feet in height and three in width.

"Wait," Tawni interrupted his departure with badly disguised haste. "Don't I get anything?" Her smile was fading now, the brightness in her eyes dimming.

Mailman checked his schedule once more, shaking his head regretfully to deliver the bad news. "Sorry. Maybe tomorrow." He wheeled off, leaving room for Sonny to join them in the room. Whistling merrily, she poked through her newly delivered mail. On the first letter she could sense a musky fragrance; a boy had sprayed cologne on it. The second letter was the heaviest. The eighth letter held four stamps.

"Aaah!" Sonny screamed, letters flying everywhere. Zora ducked quickly. Sonny's expression was bewilderment and slight shock. She wildly gestured to the caricature on the wall.

Tawni shined brilliantly. "Tawni the Second." Her glow disappeared immediately again. "I really have to explain this again? Since I don't have a mirror, the wall was blank. It was frightening not to see another me. So instead I drew myself on the wall." She drew herself up proudly again, congratulating herself.

"Why didn't you just tape a photograph to the wall?"

She missed the outrage on the blonde's face for the thought had been absent; but Tawni certainly didn't miss when she aimed a pillow at Sonny's head.

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a/n: thank you everybody that's reviewed or listed my story on their favorites list or alert list.


	5. asking for help

Thank you for waiting patiently. My life is a little hectic right now. I have my first job (which is so great), I visited a Renaissance Faire for the first time ever (no other words except it's frakkin' awesome). There's a few other things which I don't feel comfortable mentioning. Oh, and today violent winds blew a tree down on our house. But it doesn't stop me from smiling. So ha!

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Chapter Five:

Chad wandered down the corridor with his hands in his pockets, absolutely serene. Despite the rivalry being renewed, there was no reason not to visit the Randoms. Sonny, if he was to be particular. There would never be a cause great enough to make him be inclined to visit the others.

For the moment he wasn't needed at his own set, they were filming Mr. Beddle's growing infatuation with Penelope. This obsession had stemmed from his admiration of her perfect pensmanship, essay on the history and properties of sugar (originally written by Daris Otal two seats over), and overdue exposure to her presence as a teacher's assitant. Between these incidents were also bouts of staring out the window while she was in gym class and an impromptu meeting at Cass Hughes' piano recital.

The time frame was slim but at most he'd have twenty minutes before returning to the studio lot. Plenty of time to harass Chuckle City, in his opinion.

Fwush. Whoomp. Phwah. Phwah.

Curious at the strange noises, Chad poked his head around the corner. In mid-thigh maroon shorts trimmed with white, a high white waist band that hid a great portion of the stomach and back, a lengthy maroon bra and impeccable french-braided hair stood Sonny. Her back was to Chad, so she did not see him. He noticed her slightly curved back as she bent in a protective stance to limit her vulnerability. There was bound to be a name for it but he had no idea, boxing wasn't an interest.

The only fair compliment Chad could possibly muster about So Random! was that they wore the most interesting costumes.

Phwah. Phwah. Whoomp.

A line of white stole Chad's concentration right before Sonny turned; he knew it immediately to belong to an ipod. Sure enough, the earpieces were tightly jammed inside both canals so they would not fall out. Sonny paused at the sight of the star leaning against the wall, watching her as she fought an invisible opponent.

"What are you doing here?"

Chad observed Sonny with entertainment when she found, much to her dismay, that large, padded red gloves prevented her from properly pushing the buttons. Finally she just yanked out the earpieces in annoyance, undoubtedly embarrassed from the circumstances. Stupid Cute. As she raised her head again to confront Chad, he just noticed the swollen purple bruise.

Chad shrugged cooly. "Boxing, Sonny?"

The girl hardly blinked.

"It's a sketch."

He smiled at her passive defense technique. "Obviously. So uh, who gave you the black eye?"

"Tawni. It's actually just make-up and glued rubber." Sonny hesitated as she reevaluated her condition. "It is a little bruised though. I'm not sure Tawni remembered to pull her last punch." Then she threw her brightest smile in his direction. "We're not actually boxing. The sketch is a mix between Rocky Balboa and vh1. Wow, the fact that you don't know what those are is very frightening. Rocky Balboa is this great fighter and vh1 is a t.v. station."

Chad nodded, his blank stare must have been an indicator for Sonny to explain. Luckily, she had.

"Instead of fighting, we box by cracking yo momma jokes."

Silence settled into the atmosphere when Chad had nothing to say and Sonny could no longer add any more information. The awkward moment should have been the precursor for an amiable parting but neither moved from the spot. It is at this moment Chad realizes he has started to rebel against his instincts when a situation involves Sonny. If it were simply about his mind and actions not correlating, he might seek a consultant.

Being that the person he'd seek out was Sonny didn't make the idea seem more intelligent. No, the root of the problem was he had never noticed before; the idea that he was subconsciously following these actions without second regard.

Being weird beard was simply a favor, he couldn't let her humiliate herself due to blondie's sabotage. Besides, he really did want to try on the beard. Honestly. Interfering with James was nothing more than ruining a date. Evil cell phone snatcher.

"Right. So the stage is over there. What are you doing here?"

Sonny fidgeted, destroying her confident stance. "Well, Grady is the ref, Zora is Tawni's coach and Nico is mine. As motivation and spirit booster, Zora wears war paint and Tawni adopts it too. So-"

"I asked for the condensed version. Spit it out, Monroe."

Maybe he was a little short with her, but she ranted about everything. When was she going to learn she didn't need an essay to relay a set of events?

She rolled her eyes in an immature fashion. At least this little encounter wouldn't last forever. "We need the war paint. I'm supposed to get it."

Chad doesn't consider himself slow. He's not any more idiotic than Portlyn and certainly not brain dead to even consider being a Random. Even though Sonny insists Hannah Montana and Miley Cyrus are the same people, he doesn't see the resemblance. They even have different names for crying out loud!

He's proud to say that after second season's fifth episode where guest star Eli Staff demanded psychological profiles of his character in every scene that people do not always act upon their thoughts. Sometimes they are contrary; sometimes they follow a strict line of thought and follow through. And sometimes they leap two steps, expecting others to follow just as quickly with just as little effort.

Chad can honestly predict Sonny is a leaper.

"So what does that have to do with you being _here_?" He asks again, slowly.

Sonny sighs before pointing to a nearby door. It's painfully ordinary besides for the fact that it happens to be right in the middle of the corridor. "That is the room. It has wigs, scarves, makeup, jewelry. Other things too, I imagine. I've never been in there."

Definitely a leaper. What was this-connect the dots?

"Why haven't you gone in?"

This time Sonny hesitates as if trying to find the proper words to explain before summarily surrendering and simply deciding to lift her hands. Her padded gloved hands. A bulb brightens. "You can't open the door."

Sonny scowls at his spreading smirk. Of all the people, why him?

"No, I can't open the door. I've even tried loosening the gloves. It's not working. So I thought I'd just wait. This is a hallway. Somebody's bound to come by." Stressing the word, she glances up and down the hallway again. There is not a sound of life, not a single footstep. Really, she should know better than to jinx herself.

For Chad, it is merely entertaining. More mishaps happen to her in reality than they could possibly fit into their pathetic show. Nearly every encounter is preceded or followed by some event that completely throws their world into temporary chaos. A dark light bulb begins to flicker with bad ideas.

Blinking himself out of his self-imposed momentarily lapse, he is both amused and urked to find Sonny in the same condition. Her own thoughts are weighing heavily upon her. If it wasn't for her expression and lack of communication, Chad could still have recognized it by the lowered right eyebrow and the flat smile resting on extremely glossy lips from when she wets them too much. So busy criticizing and debating whether to inform her of the damage she's causing to her lips without proper care of chapstick or not Chad never thinks to examine how he knows these particular details.

"Well Sonny, I got to go."

She blinks at his abrupt announcement. Apparently she'd forgotten he was even there. Nodding politely and replacing his hands into his jacket, Chad begins to cooly slink off. It's an ability he's naturally born with, thank you for asking.

Sonny holds the meeting in disregard, it isn't the first time Chad's popped up at the most inopportune time. Pouting at her gloves, Sonny realizes that replacing the earphones would be very difficult. If opening a doorknob was hard, how would she fare with an ipod? Of course, Chad was to blame for everything. Well, not everything. Just the earphones. Maybe if Chad could . . .

"Chad!"

The superstar pauses from his slow walk away. He knew she'd get it eventually. Only eleven steps, much better than Portlyn. Incapable of hiding his grin, he fashions it into a boyish smile but not competely void of that knowing expression. He raises his eyebrows in feigned interest. "Yes?"

"You're a person."

Chad absorbs the statement as being less than what he hoped for. He also applauds her attempt to avoid outright asking him. However, she holds absolutely no tact. He would possibly be saddened by this fact, meaning that their game of playing ignorant be cut to an end if he wasn't so amused by her stubborn will that still allowed him to continue the game with other goals in mind. These goals usually involve Sonny admitting she's wrong, Sonny confessing she needs him, or simply messing with Sonny's mind.

He throws her a great blinding smile at her innocence. "Oh Sonny, I'm much more than just a person."

And leave her gaping as he disappeared behind the corner.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Sorry it's so short. Trust me, chapter six will more than make up for it.


	6. bonding over food

_**bold italics like this are Zora's thoughts**_

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

Chapter Six: Bonding over Food

"Uh no, I saw it first." Nico defended himself.

The blonde boy chortled with entertainment. "Then your eyes aren't working right if you didn't see the instant love connection." He gestured to himself and the forementioned object of their affection.

Nico, wearing a very stylish blue and black stripped vest, folded his arms. "Between you and the hot dog? No _wonder_ the poor thing was calling my name. It wanted _help_!"

Grady tightened his grip on the small plate, tugging it back towards him and away from the fiend attempting to steal the last hotdog. Hands firmly on the other side, Nico was not about to let that occur.

"Help shmelp. We don't need your interference. So why don't you go cuddle with the lovely nachos that lady has?" Being the first day of the new comedy show, So Random! cast were provided all around classic American food instead of the cafeteria. Hotdogs, nachos, hamburgers and popcorn lined a table along with finger sandwiches and punch or water.

Nico didn't even look away, despite his growling stomach. "Why don't you?"

Grady resisted the delicious aroma of freshly melted cheese. "I want hotdogs."

"Well, so do I."

Grady studied his fellow competition. "I guess we've got a problem then."

Nico snorted but refused to look away. "I guess we do."

The two eyed each other with bugged expressions and ridiculously themed snapping at each other. This, of course, was followed by a threat of showing teeth. All the while, the tug-of-war over the hotdog continued.

"I said 'Excuse me'," the little girl repeated. Nico and Grady turned as one to the mysterious voice they hadn't heard the first time. And their heads dropped by almost a foot as she was extremely short with outrageously wild hair. The braids were backwards, starting at her neck and traveling up. The braids tied halfway on the top; the remaining tail portion twisted and stiffened into resembling bull horns. Her countenance was slightly annoyed at having been ignored (albeit unintentionally) but still expectant. Grady thought of a movie he had seen about a sargeant.

The two boys tried to step away before realizing their quandry still existed. Although the dilemma concerning the hotdog still existed, it was now over a completely different reason. Nico wanted to go to the left while Grady wouldn't go anywhere except to his right. The war renewed. As they were holding onto the plate, however, their movements were jerky and tight, both afraid that great strength would dislodge the hotdog or tear the small plate. It was like struggling with a dog for a frisbee.

"Hey wishbone!" The crazy haired girl loudly exclaimed to catch their temporary attention. "Look, all I need is that plate you're holding."

Grady and Nico's eyes both lowered onto the white plastic plate with green designs that could barely house the hotdog. It left no room for chips or salsa dip. The potato wedges wouldn't even fit. It was more appropriate for dessert- a slice of cake, sliver of pie, block of fudge. Simply put, the plate was inefficient for either of their needs.

All three reacted as one; Nico and Grady relieving their control of the plate as the girl reached for it to prevent the plate from floating to the floor. The two boys were now directly manhandling the hotdog. Nico's grip tightened, the bread morphing at the edges.

The little girl wasn't worried, their behavior was juvenile but nothing dangerous to either themselves or others. Sitting back down, she watched in casual interest as the woman with the hotdog cart rolled over, explaining a batch would be done in another two minutes. The offer was pure temptation, have one hotdog now or as many as they could stuff into their stomachs in just mere minutes. They gave pause, debating with the idea.

Whatever the vender said next was the deciding point. Both boys scowled darkly as their shoulders tensed and they turned to regard each other. Zora frowned at the lack of progress. The boys of idiocy had been arguing for three minutes. Meanwhile, the hotdog they were trying to claim was rapidly cooling and would soon be undesirable. It wasn't a very productive way to spend time.

Zora sighed in resignation before pushing her chair back in and heading back to the table. "Excuse me."

Unlike the first time, both turned immediately, very attentive. Their synchronization was startling and she felt her eyes widen momentarily. She didn't even have to be rude this time. _**That's called behavior modification**_. The thought of such results opened new pathways and ideas for further experimentation. _**The neighbor's dog would serve as the first patient**__, _she decided.

Snapping to, Zora smiled sweetly. "Can one of you hand me that knife?"

Nico picked up the white, plastic knife. "This one?"

"Yep. Thanks." Snatching the thing, Zora's eyes flew between the two clueless boys. Somebody needed to teach them to share. She raised her arm slowly, noticing the two boys to be very unobservant. Neatly slicing through the bun and hotdog with one go despite the horrible utensil, she proudly viewed her work as each boy was served an exact half. If it were to be measured, of course. _**Oh yeah, that's right. Carebear with a chainsaw.**_

Engrossed in her twisted thoughts and joy, Zora missed Grady and Nico's reaction.

Grady's lips were contorted with disgust and horror. Eyes fixated on the halved hotdog, his lungs expelled their breath of air. The hotdog felt so light, so abnormal. Muscles hammered for a response, mouth incredibly dry. His tongue was temporarily glued to the roof of his mouth, lips cracked open in a silent shriek.

Nico swallowed a lump of shock as he mourned the fallen hotdog. His fingers felt the clean cut, the jagged skin, the abused bread. Hardly daring to believe the atrocity, his eyes widened at the evidence. It was irrefutable. The crazy girl just murdered their hotdog.

"Do you know what you've done?" Nico wailed.

Grady managed to find his voice. "That was a hotdog. Glorious in its making, a gift to mankind. _And_ _you destroyed it_!" He drew out the last sentence in dismay.

Nico sniffled as a prelude to crocodile tears.

"It will never have the striking aroma of black pepper," he added in a mournful tone as he sprinkled pepper onto the hotdog.

"Or the chunky quality belonging solely to the salsa dip," Grady whimpered.

Nico shook his head. "The weiner wrapped in a melting blanket of smoky pepperjack cheese."

Grady squirted a condiment into his bun. "The fine product that is mustard."

"The refreshing coolness of relish." Nico spooned some into the already cramped space that would soon overflow.

Grady inhaled and exhaled deeply. "And before you take a bite of the mouthwatering concoction born from the delicate art of taste..."

"Ya add some Taco Bell hot fire sauce-"

"For that special kick!" The two erupted in unison as they turned to truly behold the other, ecstatic to find another culinary entrepreneur such as himself. Nico and Grady were, simply put, best friends near the moment they had met. The exact time is somewhere around three hours, fourteen minutes and forty-two seconds but that knowledge is not necessary.

*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*

It was almost time for lunch. Most people judge the time by looking at the clock or by their schedule. They know what must be done before then and after. Others live by the hours rule; there must be a certain amount of time between meals. Some are ruled by their hunger. Breakfast is when they can imagine the aroma of biscuits in the oven, lunch is when the stomach rumbles and dinner is planned after a particularly pleasing advertisement for pizza. The very busy eat whenever they are able. When one is in school or at work, they must live by the schedule. Very little changes in the day to day activities. Staring at the clock in a classroom does not impede nor quicken the device, it simply states the duration of a sentence.

At long last, the wooden door opened to reveal a downtrodden Nico. As it closed with a snap, he looked back with great finality as a resigned man walking to his doom. Even the stylish white hat with bursting fireworks appeared dull.

"What happened?"

Nico readjusted his textbook under his left arm. "Surprise quiz. I couldn't remember any of the dates. Although Senora Mollina won't be too happy with question five. 'Where does the city of Lisbon derive its name?' I'm almost certain bon-bons wasn't the answer."

Grady sympathized with his friend. Bon-bons. Clapping his friend on the back with gusto, the blonde blew out his chest. "Well, you just need to look at the bright side."

"How can there _possibly_ be a bright side?" Nico questioned with disbelief.

"It's over?"

Nico reflected on the answer before completely agreeing. "I'm beginning to like the bright side."

A satisfied grin settled on Grady's face. "Of course you do. So, not to change the subject 'cause bro, school is important." Here they exchanged glances before resuming walking down the hall. "Anyway, I was wondering if we were gonna create monster salad or ragin' tostada for lunch. Both of which are very necessary to life and tasty."

"Not to mention healthy. A mixture of rice, beans, tomatoes, cheap chicken, chili verde, lettuce, fritos, and cheese. How can it be anything but healthy? Mmm, just thinking about it makes my mouth water." Nico rubbed his stomach for effect.

Grady nodded enthusiastically. "Or ragin' tostada. A hardened shell, refried beans, lettuce, tomato, melted cheese, chicken, steak, olives, bacon and salsa? You can't forget ragin' tostada."

Nico sighed in awaited pleasure. "It'd be a sin."

A slight pause as the conversation lagged and imagination reigned.

"Let's get both." The two harmonized before setting to a brisk run down to the cafeteria. If they were lucky enough, the evil lady would be sick.

It had happened once before, but it was the only occasion. The evil lady never missed a holiday, rarely took a vaction (especially if the studio was filming), and always appeared to serve Mackenzie's Falls. For flu season, she wore a mask. Christmas rolled around and she sported a santa hat before impatiently threatening to cast everyone on the 'naughty list'. Her idea of April Fools was to set out the blackboard with 'All you can eat buffet' or 'taking requests'. It changed every year yet sadly, Nico and Grady were always victims of the cruel joke.

The one occasion?

The stoves broke (fortunately, after lunch) and the next day the cafeteria was closed. Mr. Condor arranged for pizzas to be delivered to every studio. The evil lady was choosing her next torture device (stove). According to the rumor mill, she knocked on each stove before cooing affectionate adjectives.

"Woah, sorry. Trying to make it to the cafeteria here," Grady announced as he wedged past a trio of girls rocking on their heels to catch a glimpse of what lay ahead. He missed the glares. He noticed the small abnormal gathering before the entrance, the tight room, the whispers into each ear. The crowd was nothing compared to his determination, however.

Nico did notice the discontent of the crowd, the frowns present on every face, the general confusion found in all voices. Concern and tension was obvious in the body language. He apologized as he elbowed the gladiator and squeezed past the tall brunette twins. He plastered himself to the wall to avoid becoming part of the collective body mass. He did, however, get meal or no meal's lunchbox girl #2 phone number.

Grady found himself stuck in the middle as he could no longer progress and stomping on toes were no longer working. He learned his lesson when Katy Shaw used her stilettos in revenge. He'd need to check it for bleeding later.

Nico panted from his effort, already feeling the pangs of hunger. "What is goin' on?" He wondered aloud, uncomfortable and body space invaded. He caught sight of metal stands and thick red velvet rope stretching as a border. It prevented all from crossing. A small sign read _crew only._

He never expected a girl with glossy ebony hair and modern square glasses to answer. Her eyes were emboldened by the coal tint of eyeshadow. She wore a multicolored scarf, hand-knitted and reaching her belt. She brushed aside a stray piece escaping her braid. The indigo color of her jacket was striking.

"I suppose there's been some sort of accident. I can only suggest that from the sign, even though I've seen no workmen. They could've had to call somebody from outside the studios." The girl guessed logically, hands tracing the rope as if to memorize its texture. "The only problem is, we can still smell the food. So the problem exists as the cafeteria is open but not to us. Unless they've decided to trial run a delivery service."

"That would be so cool!"

Nico half-turned in shock, unable to believe Grady could hear so well over the newly formed small mob. Grady was still trapped but managed to lift his hands up to his shoulders to offer a thumbs-up in celebration. He also offered what he thought to be a winning smile.

"Who was that?"

Nico angled his head to look at the girl beside him who happened to follow his gaze to Grady. He wet his lips, considering the small dilemma the girl presented in a single moment before replying, "Never seen him before in my life." Hoping his friend hadn't heard, Nico rested atop one of the rope stands. "You know, I don't believe I caught your name."

"And you never will."

Staring deeply into her eyes in a poor attempt to entrance the girl (Cosmo should be sued), it didn't immediately register that is was not she who had replied. Although, sadly, it would not be the first time a girl he'd fallen for had a voice remarkably resembling a male's. Until, of course, he happened to notice her attention had drifted from his. Or that her lips hadn't yet parted.

Straightening, Nico scanned around to see Chad strolling past.

On the other side of the velvet ropes.

His face the epitome of immobilizing shock, Nico could barely utter, "_Chad?_"

Suddenly spotting Nico, Chad brought the megaphone to his lips. "Random?" He shot back loudly, sounding irritated and haughty all at once. The two had a temporary staring contest, a common blatant dislike in their eyes. Apparently deciding this was not the place nor the time, Chad disconnected the gaze, clearing his throat as he once again raised the megaphone. His eyes returned to Nico a final time, restraining himself most gallantly.

"I'm sorry to inform all you starving blue collar workers but there has been a change in today's menu, so to speak. Mr. Condor wishes for me to announce there will be no cafeteria for the cast today. Today and the rest of the week is dedicated to the hardworking crew of all the studios. This includes janitorial services, mail service, makeup, hair, producers, photographers, directors, writers, choreographers, etc. You get the point. Anyway, a complete list will be on Mr. Condor's door should anybody have any questions or complaints. So enjoy the lunch you should be having but aren't."

A click signaled the turning off of the megaphone. There was a collective silence as the crowd was confused as whether to cheer the hard won recognition many had been waiting for or be unhappy about no lunch, regardless of the circumstances. The urge to cry 'boo' must've been great, Nico imagined, if they weren't so afraid of Chad Dylan Cooper and his Wall of the Banished.

Chad waited for the crowd to disperse but there was nothing. Sighing as if to say 'must I do everything myself?', Chad flicked the megaphone back on. "There's still food in the vending machine in the employee's lounge."


	7. Chapter 7

a/n: It's been so long since I've updated. I'm sorry! There was no inspiration and to write felt like sucking on a lemon. But I'm okay now. Strange as it is, Zora got me through this chapter. I have such big plans for her. But for the purpose of the continuity, second season has not occurred.

chapter seven: Desperation

"It's horrible," Grady blurted out instantly upon trampling into the prophouse. He collapsed onto the large sofa, throwing an arm over his eyes. His shoes barely cleared the edge as Nico too fell back against the pillows in a dramatic fashion. Nico stared at the ceiling despondently.

"It's worse than horrible, it's terrible."

Nico crossed his arms over his chest, lounging lazily on the sofa. "This is turning into a bad day."

The blonde boy wet his lips, puckering them in deep thought. His arm slid off his face. "You know, I think I read a book like that once."

Nico's eyes slid to his best friend. "You read a book?"

The pitch was mixed with confusion and disbelief. Grady didn't seem so bothered by the reaction, however. If anything, he agreed. "I know! It was just the once. I think I was sick or something." He mused at the concept of voluntarily reading a book.

"Huh."

Grady nodded, the back of his head rubbing against the cushion. "Yep."

A silence descended upon the two as the lack of conversation whittled away their concentration. Engrossed in their own thoughts and desperate to forget about lunch, it seemed to be working just fine. If it weren't for the awkward tension in the room, that is. It wasn't often that the two friends just sat without doing an activity of some sort. Even if it was silly, to the opinion of some (Tawni).

Nico silenced his stomach's whine with a pillow, muffling the sound so Grady couldn't hear. Although he did forget a pillow couldn't stop the scraping emptiness demanding to be filled. "So what kind of book was it?"

Grady pinched his face, struggling to remember. "It was about bad days. Very philosophical." He added after a moment, eyes sneaking a peek at Nico, hoping he'd not catch the outright lie.

"Sounds . . ." Nico drifted into silence, unable to grasp onto any particular adjective. Deep? Nice? Interesting? Cool?

Grady nodded once again in complete understanding, the back of his head rubbing against the cushion. "Yep," he drawled in no particularly interest. "Hey, d'ya hear that?"

Nico popped open one eye, blearily glancing at his best friend before his mouth contorted into a large yawn. He waited a moment, listening intently before replying, "Unless you mean that odd thumping noise, no. I didn't hear a thing."

"We're in luck, my friend. It just so happens that was what I meant."

Nico adjusted his arms instead of rolling his already closed eyes. "If that's what you meant, why didn't you say so?"

Grady pinched his mouth into a frown as he objected, "I did say so."

Nico sat up, causing the pillow to slip into his lap. As it teetered precariously on his knees, about to fall, Nico threw an arm out to firmly trap any movement. He distrustfully eyed the pillow, silently daring it to move. "You asked if I heard 'that'. Not the same as saying, 'Hey Nico, do you happen to hear that strange thumping sound which is growing increasingly closer?'"

Grady paused, reflecting privately.

"It does sound like it's coming this way."

The confirmation did little to ease their thoughts. "Reminds me of great-grandma Nicolette after the cooler went out. She'd hit that thing until we thought it'd fall out the window."

Grady paused at Nico's idle comment, curiosity rolling it over. "Nicolette?" He questioned slowly, as if uncertain of himself or not truly knowing the question he wanted to ask.

"I'm named after my great-grandma, you got a problem with it?"

Nico demanded, not quite raising his head but angling it toward his friend on the sofa. He managed to glare as well, daring his friend to speak negatively. His friend, whether by mindful respect or dumbfounded shock, sat and absorbed the information given to him.

"Actually," Grady began, his eyes popping open and scanning the ceiling, "It explains a lot."

A girl stood in the doorway, catching her breath from the effort of her endeavor. "Explains what?"

"Sonny!"

Sonny winced at their harmonious shriek, registering their odd behavior. "Okay, thanks for the warm welcome."

Nico appeared chagrined at her sarcasm. "You did surprise us. And what are you doing?" He demanded as she slid down against the doorway as opposed to crossing the room to sit on the sofa.

Grady pulled a face. "Yeah. Trust me, I know from experience. The floor is not the best place to sleep."

"One, I'm not sleeping on the floor. That's just gross. Two, apparently Tawni decided to read this book- she's trying anyway, that's the important part. So this book has a chapter about childhood memories. One of which happens to be hopscotch. So you ask, Sonny, why have you hopped all the way here and are short of breath?"

Grady shook his head with a silly grin as he pointed out jovially; "Clearly anyone could see the activity caused you shortness of breath."

Sonny tilted her body to fully glare at the blonde. "Clearly."

"So like usual, Tawni has a brilliant idea. She never played as a kid, and somehow roped Zora and me into it." She slowly began again, confusion seeping into her voice. "Did you two really not notice all the uncarpeted hallways covered with hopscotch patterns?"

In truth, Nico and Grady hadn't. So occupied with starvation, the markings on the floor went completely unseen.

Sonny shrugged, not finding this new or particularly surprising. "But apparently we have more experience than her. So as a penalty, we all had to do hopscotch in heels. Not an easy thing to do," she mused, now frowning as she regarded the shoewear.

Nico's eyes widened as he wondered how he had missed the bright yellow stilettos, especially with her pants rolled up. Most likely so the heels wouldn't get caught on the fabric.

"Looks dangerous," commented Grady.

"It is."

All three jumped in surprise at Zora's sudden appearance. Yes, she still wore the aqua green heels. With these she had also added a scooter and plain white helmet.

Nico stood up, wandering over with increased interest. "Decided to _cheat_?"

Zora wasn't bothered with the accusation, in fact, she grinned. "Even better," she boasted. "On the eleven, Tawni got a text about some sale at Endless 21."

"Bricks!" Nico cursed, swinging his arms in an angry gesture that caused Sonny to jump to avoid being violently elbowed. "I was hoping we could do this with the whole gang but I guess Tawni gets left out. We gotta do somethin' about lunch. I don't know if you've heard but Mr. Condor needs to be submitted into a _loony bin_-" Nico emphasized, hands spread out wide before latching onto Zora. "It ain't pretty. No food for us actors. No food!"

Grady started to shake Sonny with a firm grip on her shoulders. "There's laws against this," he hissed, eyes slanted dangerously.

"Right." Nico's hands were trembling even after he released Zora. He quickly replaced Grady as Sonny's imposing figure. "Which is why we need a gameplan. Some way to last the rest of the week. 'Cause I can't take this anymore. Save us Sonny."

"Save us Sonny," Grady echoed.

Sonny's mouth formed an 'o' before disappearing into further confusion, all potential verbalization lost. After a moment, most likely to gather her thoughts, she tried again with success.

"...What did you guys have in mind?"

Grady stood up from his pleading position on the floor, affronted. "That's why we need you," he pointed out. "Zora's good at evil, twisted ideas. Devious. Even when it's unintentional, she usually ends up making things worse." He advised sagely.

Zora chuckled fondly as she stored her helmet under her left arm.

"True."

Nico frowned at Sonny. "I'd rather not serve community service this time. Honestly, I just wanna eat. Is that a crime?"

"I can make it one," Zora quipped easily.

Sonny warily eyed the shorter girl. "Okay, okay. We have some leftovers from dinner so I guess for today we're eating at my house. But tomorrow is when the fun begins. I'm talking themes, decorations. We're Randoms! Use your imagination and go wild. There is nothing we can't do."

As one, they huddled, gazing off past the right corner ceiling with the coffee stain. The speech from Sonny was exactly as needed: motivational and providing group activity.

From behind the tightly woven cast, Marshall furrowed his brow in puzzlement, wondering what was so special about the ceiling. Beyond the coffee stain, that is. He cleared his throat, interrupting the moment but finding it necessary. He needed to speak to them about the skit change this week.

"Don't you mean there's nothing you won't do?"

Nico glanced at Zora. Zora locked eyes with Sonny. Sonny nodded at Grady. Grady shrugged at Zora. Unspoken communication rounded the circle as each person considered the idea. Finally Nico straightened up, slinging his arms around his cast mates as they faced Marshall. "That too."


End file.
